


I’m in the race of life and time passed me by

by e1iana



Series: life is a cycle, what comes around goes around [2]
Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Addiction, Depression, Derek is in this fic but he’s still dead lol, Drug Abuse, F/F, Grief, Overdose, Sisterly Love, amelia is my baby, bisexual Amelia because fuck you, i hate Owen so I might kill him off, or something, wrote this in 3 hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:56:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28042014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e1iana/pseuds/e1iana
Summary: Arizona had visited. Yesterday. Or, was it two days ago? Callie came with her, said they wanted to check up. It was a nice gesture. She probably would’ve appreciated it a bit more if she wasn’t slurring her words.She’s been drinking. She’s been drunk. And high. At least she has the decency to not go to work, she thinks. At least she has the decency to stay.She’s a bit bitter that Meredith just up and left. Jealous, maybe. She knows she could do the same. She knows it’s a bit hypocritical to be angry, seeing as she did the same thing (ask James), but she’s not completely rational. Never has been.or; amelia overdoses, meredith comes back, derek is seen. It’s a wild ride.
Relationships: Arizona Robbins/Amelia Shepherd, Maggie Pierce & Amelia Shepherd, Meredith Grey & Amelia Shepherd, Meredith Grey & Maggie Pierce & Amelia Shepherd
Series: life is a cycle, what comes around goes around [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2054088
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	I’m in the race of life and time passed me by

**Author's Note:**

> oops I did it again 😳 (sorry Britney)
> 
> I just love Amelia, and her character is so fun to write omg

Slow. 

Slow, slow, slow. 

_ Slow  _ breathing. 

She can’t breathe. 

She can’t  _ breathe.  _

Arizona had visited. Yesterday. Or, was it two days ago? Callie came with her, said they wanted to check up. It was a nice gesture. She probably would’ve appreciated it a bit more if she wasn’t slurring her words. 

She’s been drinking. She’s been drunk. And high. At least she has the decency to not go to work, she thinks. At least she has the decency to stay. 

She’s a bit bitter that Meredith just up and left. Jealous, maybe. She knows she could do the same. She knows it’s a bit hypocritical to be angry, seeing as she did the same thing (ask James), but she’s not completely rational. Never has been.

Alex even came and visited. Wanted to see if she had heard anything from Meredith. It made her laugh in a terrible, acidic way. As if Meredith would contact  _ her  _ before contacting Alex. 

Richard and Maggie keep coming, most of the time together, but sometimes Richard comes by himself. Tries to get her to go to a meeting. Talk some sense into her. It never works, not really.

She’s beginning to think Maggie is scared of her. She always comes with Richard, and, if Amelia’s being honest, is a little jumpy. Amelia doesn’t blame her. She’s scared of herself too.

But right now, she can’t breathe. Literally, she’s having trouble getting oxygen into her lungs. She logically knows it’s probably not a heart attack, but that’s the first thing her brain goes to. She scratches her hand. 

She’s too high. She’s paranoid. She needs to call someone.

Her phone. She needs to get to her phone. It’s on the coffee table, and she’s laying down on the couch. She attempts to grab it, but she’s dizzy. She tries again, and gets it in her hand. But, apparently her hand isn’t wanting to grasp things, so she drops it on the ground.

She debates stopping. Not trying anymore, giving up, whatever you want to call it. Meredith told her one night, about how she stopped trying when she drowned. Meredith and her are more similar than she thought, she guesses.

She has an idea, though,

“Hey, Siri?” She calls out, and feels immense relief when the little chime plays. She’s not ready to die. She’s sure Derek wasn’t either. “C-call Richard.”

She doesn’t really know why she chose Richard. She could’ve chosen anyone. 911, her mom. Hell, even Meredith. But she chose Richard. 

“Calling ‘Richard Webber (chief)’ ”

“Okay, okay.” She says to herself. Her breathing is slowing, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little scared. 

Someone on the line clears their throat, “Richard Webber speaking. I’m in surgery now, you’re on speaker phone.”

Great. Amazing. Perfect. Now she has to broadcast her life to the entire OR.

“Richard…” She mumbles.

“Cross, who’s calling?” She hears a bit of static on the line before someone says, “It’s Dr. Shepard, sir.”

“Oh,  _ oh _ , Wilson, close up?” 

“But, uh, sir-”

“You’re a third year, Dr. Wilson. You do know how to close a partial colectomy, correct?”

“Yes, yes of course, sir.”

“Then do it.” 

Amelia hears some shuffling, then the snapping of gloves, then it suddenly sounds a lot clearer. “Richarddd,” she says, “I need you to come over, fassst.”

“Uh, yeah, okay. I can be over in 30, I’ll bring lunch.”

“No,” she slurs, “right now.”

She can almost hear Richard frowning. “Are you okay, Amelia?” When she doesn’t respond, he says, “I’ll be over in 5.”

The call ends, and she exhales. She’s getting sleepy. She closes her eyes.

  
  


—

  
  


Flashing red lights. 

_ Row, row, row your boat, _

“Turn her on her side so she doesn’t aspirate on her vomit!”

“Look at her nails, Richard! And- oh my god, her lips. Cyanosis, she’s not getting enough oxygen.”

“I’m not feeling a pulse.”

_ Gently down the stream, _

“Administering IM Naloxone.”

_ Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, _

“Come on, Amy. Come on, come on.”

_ Life is but a dream. _

“Derek?” Amelia says. And it is. Derek. He’s standing right in front of her. Huh. That’s probably not good.

“Amy!” He says, smiling. 

“Derek.” She says, letting out a breath. Running to him, she hugs him, tight. “Is it really you?”

He laughs, wrapping his arms around her. “It’s really me. I’m here.” Pulling away, his smile fades, and he says, “But you shouldn’t be here. You have to go back.”

“And, uh, where exactly  _ is  _ ‘here’? Holy shit, is this heaven? Because if we’re being honest,” She leans in close to Derek, like she’s telling him a secret. “I can’t believe I got in.”

Derek chuckles, “No, it’s not heaven. Look around.”

Wood walls, shelves of candy, popsicles in the freezer. It smells like cinnamon sticks too. Her breath catches when she realizes where they are. “Dad’s store.”

“Exactly.” He says, breathing in. “Isn’t it nice to be back here? So many memories in this place.”

It is. It really is. Although the store should make her cringe or feel sad, it doesn’t. It never did, even after she watched her dad get shot, it never did. The feelings she had about this place had always felt wrong, and  _ she _ always felt wrong for having them. She felt like she should hate the store.

This store was her safe place. Anytime she got herself into shit, she just imagined being in this store. It calmed her.

She runs her fingers over the candy on the shelves. “It’s all here.”

“It is. Remember when dad would give us little chocolate bars?”

She lights up. He doesn’t talk about dad much. “And popsicles? And oh my god those fruit cups!”

“Oh, those were the best.”

“I wonder if there’s some here?” She looks at him with big eyes, and he shrugs.

“Go ahead, check.”

She starts rummaging through the shelves. She doesn’t quite remember where they were kept, but she knows they’re around here somewhere. “Ah ha!” She says, holding two fruit cups up triumphantly. “A maraschino cherry one for me and a mandarin orange one for you.” She wrinkles her nose while she opens hers, “I still don’t know how you eat those.”

He feigns offense, “They’re so much better than the cherry ones! Yours are so sweet!”

“Uh, are not! They’re so much better!”

“Mmm,” he moans, “ _ so _ good.”

Amelia shakes her head, “You're weird.” 

The cherries are sweeter than she remembers, so maybe he’s not  _ too _ weird.

“Such a shame this place closed down.” Derek says, and it all but snaps her out of the daze she was in. It starts to sink in. She’s here, with her dead brother at a place that closed down 20 years ago.

“Derek, for real, where are we? Am I dead?”

Derek sighs, and sets his cup down. “I can’t answer that for you, Amy. You’re the only person who can answer that.”

She clenches her jaw. God, why does he always have to be so difficult? “What does that mean?!”

“What do you need?” 

Her eyes widen, “W-what?”

“There’s something you need that’s preventing you from moving on. What is it?”

This makes no sense. She doesn’t  _ need _ anything, she  _ needs _ to get out of here. “I don’t, I- what?”

He runs his hands over his face, “Okay, think of it like this, before I died, I held on. When I was in that bed, I was still there. It was only when Meredith told me that her and the kids would be okay that I was able to finally go.”

“Was it up to you?” Her voice cracks, and it makes her feel 15 again. Derek does that to her.

“What?”

“Whether you lived or died?”

“No. What was going to happen was going to happen. I just had to let it.”

She looks down at the ground, then up. They’re at a park now, one where Derek used to take her to lift her spirits when she was young. The beautiful baby blue sky draws her attention. Everything is so beautiful here. 

The air smells so nice, like her favorite donut shop as a kid. It freaks her out.

She knows what she has to say.

She turns to Derek. “I…” She pauses. Sweat pools in the palms of her hands. Although, she no longer has the urge to itch.

Her breathing picks up, and she swallows. Hard. 

Looking at her, he says, “Yeah?”

She wraps her arms around herself. “Derek, I had a baby.”

He furrows his brows. “No you didn’t.”

“What?”

“I’ve been watching you, you wouldn’t even be able to care for a dog right now.”

Narrowing her eyes, she says, “Okay, first of all, that’s creepy as hell. Second of all, I’m not talking about after you died. I’m, uh,” She pauses, breathing in. “I'm talking about before you died.”

Derek tilts his head, a true Shepard family specialty. “What do you mean?”

“Remember Ryan?”

He nods, so she goes on, “After he overdosed, I found out I was pregnant, uh, with his baby.” She looks down, eyes trained on the dirt beneath her feet.

“You had an abortion.” He says. The way he says it frustrates her, like it’s a given that she would have an abortion. Like he’s sure. 

She squeezes her arms tight. “No. It, uh” Her voice cracks, “ _ he,  _ had anencephaly. I carried to term, and I gave birth to him.” Amelia looks up, willing the tears to stay in her eyes. “But I held him.”

Tears eventually find their way down her cheeks, dripping onto her chin. “I held him, Derek. For 43 minutes, I held him. And he made this little squeaking sound. He couldn’t even cry. He was perfect.”

Derek pulls her into a hug and she cries. A wonderful cry full of sobs and sniffles and hiccups. Once her crying slows down, she pulls away and wipes her eyes. 

“What was his name?”

She turns her head and looks at him. Not many people have asked that question. “His name was Christopher.”

“Huh.” He says, and looks at the trees.

She sniffles. Then wipes her eyes. “I’m sorry I never told you.”

“You were grieving. You weren’t ready. Thank you for telling me now.”

She nods, and takes in the scenery. She makes a note that, given she lives, she needs to start going to more parks.

“Remember how you said you were still  _ there,  _ in your body, before you died?”

“Uh huh?”

She looks up at him. “I never got to say goodbye to you.”

“Well,” he smiles, “you’re saying goodbye now.”

She smiles, and a tear drips down her cheek. Taking a deep breath, then letting it go, she says, “Bye, Derek.

“Goodbye, Amy. Tell Meredith that I miss her, and the kids that I love them.”

She rests her head on his shoulder.

“I will.”

—

“Bye, Derek.” Amelia croaks.

“What did she just say?” A voice asks.

“Richard! Richard! Wake up! She said something!” 

“Huh? Wha- wait, what?”

“Did you say she said something?”

“Guys-”

All of the talking sounds fade into a loud buzz. God, so loud. It’s so bright in here too. Her eyes are closed, but she can tell. Her heart is beating so fast. Someone grabs her hand, “Amelia, can you hear me?”

She doesn’t move. She might be able to, but she doesn’t. She’s so tired. 

“Maybe it was a fluke. I mean, we’ve been here for two days, we might be hallucinating.”

She needs to say something. Make them know she’s there.  _ Or _ , she could go back to sleep. 

That sounds better. She’s so sweaty, but she’s so cold.

Some time passes, while everyone in the room talks, comes and goes, or falls asleep. After a while, she feels a presence in front of her face for a split second before a bright light is shone in her eyes. 

Then someone says, “You guys know the drill. She has normal pupillary response to light, her EEG shows continued cortical activity, and her EP charts electrical activity in response to outside stimuli. Sudden muscle spasms and in rare cases formed words are normal. You just have to wait. There isn’t any more that we can do at this point.”

“Right. Okay. Thank you.”

Some shuffling, and then,

“I’m just so  _ angry _ that she did this to herself. I swear, if she wakes up I’m gonna beat the hell out of her!”

She can’t help but laugh, and apparently she laughs out loud because everyone rushes to her side. It’s a dry, brittle laugh, and it doesn’t sound nice.

“Amelia?”

“Amy, are you awake?”

“Dr. Shepard, can you hear me?”

She opens her eyes, and then immediately closes them. It’s so bright. “Where am I?” She asks, then clears her throat. She flexes her fingers back and forth, then scratches her arms. She slowly opens her eyes again.

Richard is there, of course. Maggie, too. Stephanie. Arizona. Jo. Alex. Meredith. Wait,  _ Meredith? _

“Meredith?” Amelia croaks.

Meredith sighs. “Amelia.”

“Wow, don’t sound so happy to see me.” Amy coughs, sarcastically. She’s so thirsty. She glances around a couple of times. Where is she? An IV, wires, a hospital gown. And, it smells like rubbing alcohol.

_ Of course _ .

“I’m in a hospital?” She asks, clearing her throat. God, some water would really be nice. Makes sense that she’s in a hospital. She always gets herself into something. 

Richard looks around the room, “Can you guys clear out?” Everyone mumbles a yes and moves to leave, including Meredith and Maggie. Amelia points two fingers at them, “You and you. Stay.”

Maggie glances at Meredith with a look of uncertainty, and it’s such a small thing but Amelia feels a pang of hurt in her chest. Maggie really is scared of her.

They both stay, and Richard starts talking. “You overdosed, Amelia.”

Amy laughs wryly. “Of course I did. Sounds like Hurricane Amy. Who found me?”

“I did.” Richard says, “You called me. Said you needed me to come over.”

“I did?” She asks. “I don’t remember that at all.”

“Well, yeah.” Meredith says, “Short term memory loss. Probably a result of your cerebral hypoxia. God you’re so stupid!” She scolds, hitting her on the arm.

“Ow! Why did you-”

“Because you almost killed yourself! Do you get that? You almost  _ died _ !”

“Wow, almost sounds like you..care?”

“Of course I care! You’re my sister!”

“I’m not your sister, I’m Derek's sister. Cristina is your sister.” Meredith had told her stories of Cristina, how they were soulmates, sisters, two pairs to a set. Maggie talks about her too. How legendary she is. How she reads all of her papers. Amelia knows Maggie had trouble with living up to that reputation.

“Amelia, you’re Derek's sister, yes. That makes you mine by default. You’re just as much my sister as Maggie is or Cristina is or Lexie was.”

“Yeah,” Maggie says, “So that means you’re mine too.”

She looks between the two women sitting there. Her…  _ sisters _ . Huh. She glances away. “Did my mom come?” She asks, hopeful.

Richard sighs, “We called her, but she said she couldn’t make it. I’m sorry, Amelia. We can call her again if you want to talk to her.”

Amelia waves her hand, “No, no, that’s okay. I knew she wouldn’t come.” She tries to sound nonchalant about it, but the voice crack really gives her away. She looks down. “Derek was the only one in the family who really gave a shit about me. I don’t blame them though. I’m ‘Hurricane Amy’.” She looks up, blinking away tears. “Did you call my sisters?” She asks Richard.

“Lizzie said she might come visit if she can get a couple days off work.”

“And Kathy and Nancy?”

“I… really would rather not repeat the things they said.”

Amelia looks at her hands. Red scratch marks are formed, along with callouses from the scalpel. “Right.” 

—

Meredith visits the next day. They’re keeping Amelia for observation for a couple of days to monitor her. Or to keep her away from drugs. 

Meredith is staying, apparently. Keep an eye on Amelia, or something. It irritates her.

“Hey,” Meredith says. “I brought you a coffee.” 

“Thanks…” Amy says, taking the coffee. Sitting up, she takes a sip. “Oh my god, this is so good. Black coffee is the best.”

Meredith smiles. “It was Derek’s favorite, too.”

Amelia looks up and meets Meredith's eyes. They lock eyes for a long moment, until Meredith finally asks “Did you see him?”

“What?” Comes from her mouth, even though she knows exactly what  _ (who) _ Meredith is talking about.

“Derek. Did you see him?”

A chill runs through her body. “I did. We talked. I got to say goodbye. He told me to, uh, tell you he loves you and the kids.” She looks up, and puts her tongue on the roof of her mouth.

“Are you messing with me?” Meredith asks, crossing her arms.

Amelia gives her a dry look. “Why, Meredith, would I lie about seeing my dead brother while I was in a coma after overdosing on oxy?”

Meredith nods, “Good point.” She pauses to think for a second, “So, like, was he a ghost or…”

They grow a bit closer over the hours of the night, chatting away about times when Derek made them laugh, or cry, or so,  _ so _ angry.

Sisters.

—

  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> maybe I might make more 😦 who knows


End file.
